


Don't Pay Attention In High School

by graywrites



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Coming Out, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Lesbian Kara Danvers, Past Relationship(s), this is so long and dumb im so sorry, we hate mon el and love lena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 21:34:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12920703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graywrites/pseuds/graywrites
Summary: Love is new everywhere you go, and Kara hardly ever knows the rules. Teenage crushes are half the battle, and boys she doesn't love are battles of their own. Symbiosis just means learning to be human, but it takes a decade and an army to figure out what the point of love is, anyways.





	Don't Pay Attention In High School

**Author's Note:**

> everything i write is autobiographical but this is also my lab report. hi guys this is. wild i feel like ive been on a trip this is so fuckin LONG jfc.... theres so much prior references and its like 3 parts but idk i kinda dig it? shit. who knows. also listen i reread it to do some pathetic job @ proofreading & suprise! its bad! but honestly its kinda late so. who cares. also kara crytypes lowkey lmao

****

A symbiotic relationship is defined as the following: a close and long-term interaction between two different biological organisms, be it mutualistic, commensalistic, or parasitic. _The organisms may be of the same or different species._

 

By age seventeen, this is what Kara knew of love from first hand experience, though she couldn’t say for sure if she was getting it or not. Sure, she knew all about commensalistic relationships, like when she’d get assigned to a group for a class project, and she’d do all the work, because everyone knew she could do it faster alone than she could with anybody else peeking over her shoulder, wracked with senioritis.

 

Everybody else benefitted, and Kara, already well educated on anything that Earth highschool had to offer, had no qualms with the arrangement, but not much benefit, either.

 

But, then again, Kara couldn’t figure out what strangers had to do with love, anyways. Kara could hardly figure out anything anymore.

 

Her only real outer reference for love besides TV was Alex, who always made love and boys sound like warfare, like a natural disaster, poetic and tragic and dramatic. Alex, Kara thought, sounded an awfully lot like TV. Or maybe just like she didn’t really know what she was talking about.

 

Kara knew all about natural disasters, though, because on Friday, November 9, 2007, 10:24 pm, in Midvale, it was a 7.6 on the Richter Scale, though no Earth did shake.

 

Two weeks straight of radio silence after Kara kisses her best friend behind the school parking lot during a football game.

 

Senior year was the absolute worst.

 

Everything had been beautiful- last football game of the season, and it was November. It had been raining, or maybe snowing, and Kara was awestruck. Everything was perfect when it snowed, she believed that wholeheartedly. Four years straight of snow filling in every other cold space. Alex was sick of it, so she packed up and moved to California for school. Kara, though, still loved it, even though she had to watch it by herself, now.

 

They had ditched the game, Kara and the best friend she had, walked off alone, balanced on parking stops, toed on the edges of shadows, watched the flurries of something fly by under every light, leaned back against the cold brick of the high school because they didn’t want to be at the game, but weren’t quite ready to leave, either.

 

Daisy McKinsley was Kara’s best friend of almost a year, and possibly also the only one she had. Her hair was so blonde it was yellow and always kind of frayed at the edges, and her eyes were big and brown with long eyelashes. Her face kind of came to a point, and freckles covered every inch of her body. All of her jeans were flared and had ugly embroidery on the pockets, and Kara loved her more than she’d loved anybody since she’d come to Earth, besides maybe Alex, who was miles away now, but it felt like worlds.

 

For a moment, it was really, really nice. Daisy’s face was flushed, and she was giggling, and her hair was wet at the roots, water caught in her eyelashes; that’s when Kara kissed her.

 

It was the first time Kara had ever kissed anybody like that. It was calm and non-performative, sweet and just for them. Gentle and full of affectionate infatuation, and it felt right. Daisy kissed back. Kara had no point of comparison, but it sounded how Alex described kissing, even though, when Alex described kissing, she was usually referring to some tall boy who spoke like a brick wall, never anybody like Daisy. And, when Alex spoke about kissing anyone, her voice usually held a tone of voyeuristic pride, but never any deep affection. That confused Kara just as much. Non-specifics made love sound like a crime of passion, something angry, but Alex’s boys were trophies of personal indifference.

 

Kara quickly decided that it wasn’t like that with Daisy.  

 

Daisy was passionate and hungry, grabbing onto Kara’s hips briefly, like they were running out of time, foreheads and teeth hitting one another. It was nice, Kara thought, until Daisy’s heart stalled for a moment, and she paused, before abruptly pulling away, teeth clashing together as she brought as much distance between her and Kara as possible without losing her own footing.

 

Kara was left with her mouth half open, arms idle at her sides. “W-what are you doing? That’s- that’s fucked up. That’s wrong,” Daisy had said, shoulders shaking, slightly, voice wavering. “Where the fuck- why’d you do that shit to me?” No conviction in her voice, just accusation. Kara’s face fell. Before she could say anything else, Daisy spoke once more. Kara could hear Daisy’s heart pounding in her own ears, could hear the way she swallowed, began to back away. It was the words Kara didn’t catch.

 

Daisy was gone by the time Kara couldn’t hear her own heart pounding in her chest, guilty and confused. What was so wrong? What had she done?

 

Kara went over it in her head- she loved Daisy. Daisy loved her, too. She’d _told_ Kara so. And when you love someone, and you’re in a moment with them that seems beautiful, and you never want to forget, you _kiss_ them. Alex had confirmed. Alex _knew_ about these things. Kara knew quantum physics, but Alex knew humans, and all of her passion and warfare with boys was about what’s _beautiful_. Right?

 

Two years ago, when everything was beautiful, Kenny had tried to kiss Kara. And Kara loved him, but _kissing_ him felt wrong. It made her lungs feel tight. Daisy was different. Daisy was brown eyes and endless thoughts and _right_. And Daisy kissed her back, maybe kissed her _more_ , Daisy was her first kiss. _‘That’s wrong.’_

 

It was okay, decidedly, when Kenny tried to kiss Kara. It was okay when Alex talked about kissing boys, even though Kara could hear her heartbeat stall when she talked about it like it was an accomplishment.

 

Maybe Kara didn’t know anything. Alone under the too-bright lights of the streetlamp, Kara felt sick. She felt stupid; she felt like a kid, blind-sided and oblivious, once again too foreign to a hostile environment.

 

Vaguely, Kara wondered how long the walk home would take, ride gone with a screech of tires, wondered if she could fly, wondered if Alex was having fun at college kissing boys who didn’t scream at her afterwards.

 

Kara flew home, didn’t stop, flew as fast as she could, and finally turned back around when ocean turned back to land again. 8 on the Richer Scale in Midvale. Kara had nightmares again.

 

 

After that, Daisy avoided Kara at every edge. Kara went back to sitting by herself, her best friend nothing but a glare or vacant eyes, cast downward, her sister miles away in college, leaving Kara alone.

 

Kara made all of her best efforts not to hear what Daisy said about her with such desperate, dark eyes, tried not to think about her eyes all together, let isolation settle on her shoulders, but still smiled, never stopped. If she didn’t smile, Eliza would worry, Eliza always worried, and she’d call Alex- Kara longed for her sister, loathed the thought just as much, couldn’t bare letting her see how incompetent she was even now, couldn’t stand being the lost, stupid little girl, losing friends over cultural missteps, pathetic and all alone.

 

Kara regretted not paying any attention in History class three years ago.

 

Kara started finding notes in her locker here and there of words she didn’t entirely comprehend, words she certainly didn’t care too. She started throwing them out without looking at them. Daisy only ever looked guilty anymore.

 

3.5 on the Richter Scale- Kara, on the balcony of Daisy’s room, after she’d listened for the McKinsley’s to leave. A secret knock five months old, no more snow, only bitter cold fought off lazily by solar radiation settled in each of Kara’s cells.

 

When Daisy saw her, she hissed, pulled her inside, and whispered even though they were home alone. “Get the fuck out of here! What are you doing?”

 

“I had to ask you-” Kara began, hands drawn up to her glasses without much purpose, two heartbeats loud in her ears.

 

“You don’t have anything to ask me. We aren’t friends. Get out of here, Kara, come on-” she was pleading, and it didn’t make sense. Kara was here to plead, Daisy had nothing to plead for. Kara just wanted to know the rules.

 

“But I have to ask you, I just- I need to know, about the kiss, I-” Kara began, and Daisy nearly shoved her.

 

“Shut the _fuck up_ , Kara! There was no kiss, okay, I _don’t_ know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Daisy said quickly, breathing heavy, breathing like Alex’s.

 

“But-!” Kara interjected quickly, Daisy’s hands on her arms, still gripping tight. Daisy, for a moment, bit her lip, stepped back. Guilt flooding her eyes again, no malice. Thought, maybe, about what she might owe Kara, even if it’s just a goodbye. So Kara breathes in and starts again. “Wasn’t it, you know- good? Didn’t you like it? Wasn’t it _right_?” She needed so desperately to be back on the ground, two weeks ago she’d started flying and she’d never stopped, she needed to plant her footing and understand what was going on, everything that was allowed and the things that weren’t.

 

Kara was getting so sick of having to relearn everything over and over again.

 

“I- of course I _liked_ it!” Daisy said, strained like a scream might be, but it came out hoarse, her voice cracked a little, and Kara could feel it in her bones. “That’s _not_ the point, Kara. God. That doesn’t make it _right_. It doesn’t fucking matter what I _like_ , of course I liked it, but, Kara, we’re both _girls_ , okay? And I don’t know where you’re from, okay, but where I’m from, that _means_ something, you can’t _do_ that,” she stammered, voice barely above a whisper. “That isn’t _okay_ , Danvers.”

 

Kara could hear tears hitting the wood floor, but couldn’t really bring herself to look up, didn’t dare.

 

Kara stammered out her most earnest apology. “Get the fuck _out_ , Kara,” Daisy said, bringing her hands to her face, over her lips, and Kara could still smell honey lip balm as she took off, shaking and embarrassed.

 

Love, and pain, and war. Earthquakes and angry love. God, Kara hated it when Alex was right.

 

 

Years later, Daisy McKinsley became little more than a compartmentalized, muddy memory, living in monochromatic stop-motion in the very back of Kara’s brain, nothing more than a name or a bad dream.

 

The vague idea of what Kara was and wasn’t allowed lingered.

 

Alex, collapsed on the floor of her apartment, loved Maggie. Kara told her she was proud of her, and that was true. Alex with girls made more sense than Alex with boys ever did. Alex with boys never sounded happy, and Kara loved her sister more than anyone, and she was older, now, knew that not all humans were _like_ that, now, so she held her sister and told her the truth about how proud she was, even though, while holding her sobbing sister, she couldn’t help but think that younger Alex may have been correct even still when she talked about love like half of it was tragic.

 

Alex and Maggie were good together, though, and Alex’s breath baited in the best way, most of the time. And, yeah, Kara knew that not all rules summed up to her by a single tearful teenage girl a little under a decade ago applied to her the same, anymore.

 

Trying to be human when you’re an alien, though, is about being as average as possible. So, maybe, for Kara, there are still some rules in place that don’t apply to everyone else. Kara isn’t everyone else.

 

Kara almost never thought about it, anymore, though. Why would she?

 

Boys, boys were okay. It was just like on TV, when she was a kid. Boys worked fine. James was perfectly nice and perfectly handsome and similarly unavailable, and she liked him, she really did- until Lucy wasn’t there anymore.

 

It had nothing to do with James. Kara was Supergirl, and she didn’t have time for a committed relationship, and besides, there wasn’t any _passion_ there.

 

 

Kara, eventually, went back to her old theory of symbiosis, if inadvertently. Humans weren’t so different from animals, afterall. Symbiosis, love. She learned about parasites from Mon-El.

 

With Mon-El, there was passion, just like Alex’s old anthem had described, just like love was meant to be. What Kara felt about Mon-El, she felt it wholeheartedly, with every inch of her body, starting from her core. That was love, right?

 

He made her feel like she was on fire, like all of her nerve endings were active. He made her _fight_ for something. Usually, though, all she was really fighting was him, on behalf of herself. But that, Kara figured, was love- she was a grown woman, she’d recognize it when she felt it. Passion and warfare, fighting and pain. Kissing and yelling and grinding her teeth. Possession, insecurity.

 

Some of it was deja-vu from a time passed. Guilt and harsh words she couldn’t tell if she deserved. Isolation, nightmares, vacant eyes, smiling, smiling, smiling, even when she didn’t mean it. Feeling incompetent and pathetic in places where it hurt, a constant 4 on the Richter scale.

 

After fights with Mon-El, Kara would start flying so fast she could hardly stop herself, cursing Newton and Mon-El and herself, always, always herself. Wondering what she owed Mon-El, what he owed her, if it might be anything more than a goodbye.

 

Was standing her ground so wrong? _‘In the movies, the girl forgives the guy_.’ Kara was old enough to know better, maybe, but half of her was just a Stupid Little Girl, still so scared to let anyone know what the mighty Girl of Steel wanted to cry about, but didn’t, pathetic and hung up over what she tolerated, confused over what was unreasonable on her part, what was normal on his, and kissing him felt wrong like kissing Kenny, and Winn, and James, but love was passion and anger and bitter cold warfare, love was peaks and troughs with nothing in between, love was kissing then fighting and full of friction and feeling guilty whether you know what you did or not.

 

Love was contradictory and tearful and feeling hopelessly lost, longing to relearn the rules. Angry, and hateful, and full bad dreams.

 

Kara was starting to think she kind of hated love.

 

Kara had defined love for her sister one night after a fight with Mon-El by the time that she had come to the conclusion that she had been wrong, she was always _wrong_ , or wrong for not being more forgiving, more understanding, more _everything_ , and faster. Half a bottle of alien rum down, and Kara felt like a genius. She felt as though she had finally figured it out; she felt like a philosopher.

 

“Love,” she declared, with some finality, “is all about tolerance.”

 

Alex was quiet through Kara’s monologue, and then horrified. Like, mouth hanging open kind of horrified _. Crying_ horrified. Kara felt stupid; she felt petulant and whiny through slurred words. Her complaints had made her sister _cry_. She was quick to back up through garbled speech; _it’s not that bad, it’s not that bad, it’s not that bad!_ She didn’t _mean_ it like that, it just came out that way. She _loves_ him. She’d _know_ that. She would.

 

Hours later, Kara woke up, alone, in her own bed. She had a dead arm, a migraine, and a sick feeling in her gut that came more from any recently recalled memories than anything else. She avoided Alex for two days straight after that, wouldn’t say a word, felt like a bitch. Felt pathetic. Alex had _cried_. Over _nothing_. Just Kara, whining. About _fighting_ with her _boyfriend_.

 

What was normal? What were the rules? Why was Alex crying? (More importantly, why was Kara?)

 

She felt sick.

 

Maggie and Alex essentially cornered her one night, when she was trying to leave. She’d spent the last week and a half red-faced and ashamed, trying to act like nothing had ever happened, holding her breath the entire time.

 

No such luck.

 

They started it like an intervention, and it basically was one. “Guys,” she said nervously, “I’ve only drank about twice in my life, don’t you think this is a little presumptuous?” She laughed nervously to herself. They didn’t laugh at all.

 

They were gentle, told her they cared about her, then went in fast, before she could sidetrack, backtrack, get out of _anything_.

 

“Does Mon-El make you _happy_?”

 

 _God_!

 

She sputtered, stalled, knit her eyebrows together. She talked about passion and pain.

 

Only Alex spoke. “Sweetie, you’re talking about a lot of _feelings_ he gives you, but you haven’t said anything about _love_. I just want to know, I mean- do you _love_ him, in the, you know, butterflies, blushing, happy kind of way? Do you want to _be_ with him, around him?”

 

Kara bit her lip. Crossed her arms. Considered protesting- she was stronger than both of them combined. She could just lift them up and move them out of the way. She didn’t have to _stay_ here.

 

She looked at them; their eyes pierced through her, dead serious. She shrunk until she was maybe three feet tall. Okay: maybe she did have to stay.

 

She thought hard again. Grinded her teeth. Tried to think about love and feelings and if she had any of it right, wondered how long she’d possibly have to be confused for, tried to keep her eyes down and away from Maggie’s, from her sisters. She felt inexplicably guilty again.

 

“Yes,” she said, after a good long while under the unforgiving eyes of two of the women she thinks the highest of.

 

Alex looked at her long and hard before she said, “Kara, no one has ever had to think that long about whether or not they love someone.” Gentle. It sounded patronizing in Kara’s ringing ears. She felt unconsolably ashamed and embarrassed- she was _better_ than that, wasn’t she? She was supposed to be a hero. How could she be a hero when she couldn’t even protect herself?

 

She felt sick again.

 

She didn’t say anything, but Alex understood. Every breath hurt more as Alex used her best kid gloves to try and console her, promising her she had no reason to be ashamed, repeating like habit that it wasn’t her fault. Wasn’t it? Wasn’t that how it worked?

 

Pathetic, pathetic. What had she let happen? _Stupid Little Girl._

At some point, she started crying. She wasn’t sure when she stopped, but when she did, Mon-El was just a bad dream, Mon-El was nowhere to be found. Her sister was there, always there.

 

Kara cried, but never about him- only about her, and maybe about Daisy McKinsley, and about what being normal means for humans and everyone else. For someone with such a strict moral code as a superhero, Kara cried and tried not to cry about what was right and wrong a _lot_.

 

 

 

Months later, Kara tried to shake symbiosis like she’d shaken warfare, but, admittedly, she was having a hard time. Lena Luthor taught Kara about mutualistic symbiosis, and she couldn’t quite let that go.

 

Lena was the best person Kara knew, and it was hard to forget that as she sat in her office at CatCo sipping wine that didn’t affect her, but made her feel fuzzy anyways, just _talking_ about everything that mattered and some things that didn’t just the same.

 

Kara thought Lena was beautiful, a point made growingly more important as Kara gazed at her from her position beside Lena.

 

Lena Luthor was easy to talk to, to the point that sometimes, Kara would just start going and going on a ramble about whatever she was passionate about in the moment that she tripped over her own words to the end of a sentence, lost in Lena’s eyes, and when she found herself again and began to pay attention, Lena would just be gazing back at her like nothing in the world was more important than what Kara had to say.

 

When Kara thought of Lena, her heart swelled. Kara had never had such a close friend, someone so kind and humorous, so _strong_. Kara couldn’t think of anybody quite like Lena, which was probably why she occupied so much of Kara’s thoughts.

 

Lena believed in Kara as much as Kara believed in her, and Kara felt like she was in a constant state of rose wine. 0 on the Richter scale. Snow falls whether it’s warm or not. Mutual symbiosis. Safety and warmth and euphoria. Passion- Kara could fight for Lena until the very end, and she’d do it, too, without hesitation.

 

With Lena, Kara didn’t _have_ to be anything but herself. In fact, half of the time, Lena Luthor seemed more impressed with just Kara Danvers than Supergirl herself. Kara was still getting used to it, but wouldn’t trade it in a heartbeat. Having someone wonderful to be a human around was a new commodity for which Kara was eternally grateful.

 

Lena Luthor, her best friend. _Best friend._

They were close, hands brushing, fireplace on, rest of the office dark, just _talking_. Dizzy with comfort, contentedness.

 

A beautiful moment Kara wouldn’t ever want to forget, not one single detail, and out of bad habit, Kara’s instincts or consciousness or _something_ said, ‘kiss her.’

 

Kara didn’t- she recoiled, clumsily, in shame, in guilt, nearly spilled her wine, and something in her mind repeated what was right and wrong like a tired mantra, told her that was her best friend, she shouldn’t be thinking about her like that, couldn’t ruin their friendship like that, _they were both girls._

_God!_

Everything hurt. Kara was so fucking sick of everything hurting, didn’t want to know what was right and wrong or have to think about anything ever again, couldn’t stand to relearn any rules ever again. She felt sick.

 

She stuttered out some dull excuse through Lena’s _‘are you okay?’_ s. Lena was a saint. Of course she’d ask.

 

Kara’s heart swelled. Her eyes watered. She tried to stop both.

 

She tried to fly home, but ended up at Alex’s doorstep by some derailment of plans by her own traitorous body, feeling useless and ashamed as usual, and stupid for feeling that way all the while over something that surely didn’t mean anything at all.

 

She got to the door and wrapped on the wood loudly, until her invulnerable knuckles started to ache, even though Alex hardly took four minutes getting to the door, and Kara hardly noticed any time passing at all.

 

When Alex got to the door she was dressed but disheveled, and Kara could hear Maggie’s heartbeat. She felt ridiculous and petulant. Kid sister can’t get out of the way with her drama for two fucking seconds. Kara just can’t help but ruin everything.

 

“I’ll go,” she promised quickly, voice wavering before falling completely, eyes trained back on Maggie, apologetic and penitent.

 

“No,” Alex said quickly, grabbing at Kara’s arm. “Hey, Kar, what’s wrong? Hey,” always so delicate, so gentle with Kara in places she didn’t deserve.

 

Kara sat on the couch for anywhere from five minutes to an hour in utter silence, face down, before she started crying.

 

Maggie was suspicious in an unaccusing way; Alex was bewildered. Every other breath was lined with a frantic question in a wavering voice Alex was so obviously trying desperately to conceal.

 

“G- _god_ , I’m so _sorry_ , this is so _stupid-_ it- it doesn’t even _matter_ and I just- _god_ , I’m just so- I just can’t, I can’t- _I’m so sorry_ , this is _ridiculous!_ ” Kara blubbered through fractured breaths she could not seem to catch, whole body shaking and one eastern wind from collapsing in on itself completely, Alex and Maggie both against her, then, holding her up on each side, comforting arms a tangled mess over and around and above her, protecting her, keeping her safe from anything that might hurt her.

 

“I’m- I’m sorry,” she panted, trying to control herself, trying not to hyperventilate.

 

“Kara, sweetie,” Alex said quickly, voice restrained at every edge, love and concern for Kara’s genuine wellbeing seeping out the sides, which just made Kara cry harder. “Kara, you don’t have to be sorry. With all the ‘sorry’ you’ve been lately, I’d be okay if you were never sorry again. Okay? Hey, Kara, you’re okay. You’re okay.”

 

Kara leaned into her grip, let her pet her hair, tried not to feel so stupid for every ancient ghost that’s followed her for a decade, tried to catch her breath in the embrace of her big sister, to let it calm her down.

 

“Can you tell us what it is?” Maggie asked. Firm but gentle. Hostage negotiator. What information was caught deep inside Kara’s rattling lungs? What was she holding captive there, who was she hurting?

 

“L-lena,” Kara gasped, rubbing viciously at reddening eyes, feeling like a child. Why did everything matter so much? Why did she have to act like it was all such a tragedy? There was nothing tragic about Lena Luthor.

 

“Is Lena okay?” Alex asked firmly, arms tightening around her little sister.

 

“She’s _better_ than okay,” Kara began, trying to keep from wailing like a kid. “She’s _beautiful_. She’s the best person I _know_ and I _love her_ and I want to kiss her more than any guy I’ve ever wanted to kiss! She _feels_ right!” Kara stammered out, sentences tearful and stalling as she leaned forward into herself. Alex and Maggie shared a knowing look before Alex leaned down to be with Kara.

 

Role reversal. Kara hated when Alex was right.

 

Alex held her as she cried. Didn’t tell her what she should know by now, or how she should feel. Just whispered soothing reassurances, promised that she knew, and she was proud, and that everything was going to be okay, that Alex knew it was scary, but Kara was perfect, and it was going to all work out, it was going to be fine. That was all.

 

Just promises Kara desperately wanted to believe Alex could keep. Wet hair being peeled off of her flushed face. Catching her breath and trying not to feel dumb. When Kara finally caught her breath a little, sat up a little, Maggie spoke, dusting away the silence like housekeeping.

 

“Hey, Baby Danvers?” Quiet.

 

“Y-yeah?” Kara asked, turning to look at her.

 

“Welcome to the club, kid.”

 

Kara gave a fragmented laugh and Alex squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. For a moment, Kara really did believe that everything was going to be just fine; Alex had a track record of being right.

 

All three of them sat in silence, a wordless understanding reached between the three partners in arms- they’d all fought the same war.

 

Kara hoped they’d all won.

 

Regardless, it was nice to just sit in the quiet and catch her breath with the two people in the world she knew understood it all perfectly- boys and girls and love and falling to pieces.

 

“Hey, Kar?” Alex asked, arm still draped around her little sister.

 

“Yeah?” Kara sniffled, throat and head aching from the comedown of her breakdown.

 

“Just wait ‘till Mom finds out she’s got _two_ lesbian kids.”

 

Everybody laughed. Privately, Kara’s heart swelled. She hoped that was meant to be a good sign. “Alex?” She asked hesitantly.

 

“Yeah, Kar?”

 

“What- what do I do now?” Unsure. Apprehensive. Alex remembered it well enough to make her heart ache then and there, but she had been there, done that, and this was her chance to make everything less confusing and scary in this big, new world for her baby sister.

 

“Now? You sleep, Kara. We can talk about the girl tomorrow.”

 

Kara took that for a good answer, apparently, because it took make five minutes for all three women to be passed out in their positions on the couch.

 

 

“Wake up, Gay Danvers! That’s right, both of you. I made breakfast.” It was one way for Maggie to wake them up, but it was a way of her own.

 

The Danvers sisters rose in near unison, with the same aversion to the light of morning. Kara’s everything hurt. Her face felt swollen and her mouth was dry and still kind of tasted like white wine. Her throat still ached a little.

 

But, oh, it was snowing.

 

Like they were kids again, Alex and Kara raced to the breakfast table. The three women didn’t speak until a total of twelve eggs, sixteen cups of coffee, fourteen pieces of bacon, and thirteen pancakes were consumed. Like machines, they began to whir to life as the caffeine took effect.

 

Kara spoke first. “Hey, you guys?” She tried. “I’m sorry I kinda crashed your night last night. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

 

Before Alex could interject, Maggie spoke. “Nonsense, Sunny D. I’m always up for helping a young gay in need of guidance. Alex and I have plenty of days off, we can have fun any time. Helping Kara Danvers have a sexual awakening at two in the morning? That’s a once in a lifetime experience, kid. Speaking of which, Luthor, huh? Makes sense,” Maggie said reasonably.

 

Kara blushed to the table.

 

Alex thought over it long and hard. “Shit. I think I approve,” she admitted with a hard nod. That got a giggle out of Kara.

 

“So, uh, what do I, you know, _do_?”

 

 

Under the pretense of, _‘bitches love flowers,’_ Kara walked through the piling snow, rapidly turning blizzard, to pick up endless amounts of plumerias. God, there were enough Plumerias to drown in. That’s all Kara felt; everything was endless, endless, endless, in the best way possible. She was gushing, full to the brim with something dizzying that Alex promised was love.

 

Nothing else intruded Kara’s mind until she felt the system shock of warmth in Lena’s office. CatCo was closed but still, she was there, like Kara knew she’d be, face red, arm full of flowers, snowflakes melting on her eyelashes.

 

Lena said something short Kara didn’t really catch. Oh, Lena was gorgeous. Her eyes were wide and genuine and familiarly bright. White light was rising up from the snow to the all glass windows and into the office, surrounding Lena in a glowing halo.

 

It was beautiful beyond words. Kara never wanted to forget it.

 

A clumsy proposition through ever parted lips slipped away from them both. Kara grabbed her, and they kissed, and it was just like how everything was described to her in the best ways, only, but better.

 

There was no rush, nothing forced, no performative measures. It was slow; they took their time. Full of affection and idle fingers running clumsily through hair like an ideal first kiss, naïve and innocent. Private, but not shameful. Everything intertwining, no breath to be caught, full of light and laughing and foreheads brushing together.

 

Quietly, they discovered each other. Found thing familiar and new, leaned into the love. It felt _right._ There was no time- they had all day if they needed it, if they wanted it. And Kara took comfort in the fact that, when they were done? Lena would be right there waiting for her.

**Author's Note:**

> THANKS FOR BEARING W ME.... ily... PLEASE leave a review just bc. like. god i went thru a PROCESS writin that?? so i just wanna talk to people about the pain it put me through tbh. did u like it?  
> if u wanna request a fic u can find me at kryptomb.tumblr.com/ask


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